CHAPTER VII.
WHAT FURTHER HAPPENED ON THE EVENING OF THE WEDDING.
Both before and during the ceremony, Undine had shown herself gentle and quiet; but it now seemed as if all the wayward humors which rioted within her, burst forth all the more boldly and unrestrainedly.
She teased her bridegroom and her foster-parents, and even the holy man whom she had so lately reverenced, with all sorts of childish tricks; and when the old woman was about to reprove her, she was quickly silenced by a few grave words from the knight, speaking of Undine now as his wife.

Nevertheless, the knight himself was equally little pleased with Undine's childish behavior: but no signs, and no reproachful words were of any avail.

It is true, whenever the bride noticed her husband's dissatisfaction--and this occurred occasionally--she became more quiet, sat down by his side, caressed him, whispered something smilingly into his ear, and smoothed the wrinkles that were gathering on his brow.

But immediately afterward, some wild freak would again lead her to return to her ridiculous proceedings, and matters would be worse than before.

At length the priest said in a serious and kind tone: "My fair young maiden, no one indeed can look at you without delight; but remember so to attune your soul betimes, that it may ever harmonize with that of your wedded husband." "Soul!" said Undine, laughing; "that sounds pretty enough, and may be a very edifying and useful caution for most people.